Curse of My Father
by Mrs.PercyJackson3
Summary: Do you have a son? One you can see everyday? - Treasure that, you are lucky to have such an honor. Not everybody gets such an honor. Companion piece to Bonding. Fatherly reflection - one-shot.


**A/n This is a companion piece to my story Bonding, and I recommend you read it first if you want this to make sense, at least chapter five. It probably would help. Enjoy – I own nothing.**

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Curse of My Father

The sun had long since sank below the horizon, but looking at the world through Officer Brett Gormen's review mirror, one would never be able to tell. The city that never slept glowed brightly behind NYPD Officer Gormen as he drove home. He had just clocked out and was anxiously looking forward to retiring for the night. He had called his wife before he left the precinct and she was making his favorite dish for dinner. So, when he noticed a disturbance at the abandoned bowling alley, he was sorely tempted to ignore it and keep driving. It was just an old bowling alley after all, it had been crumbling away since before he was born (nobody _actually _bowled anymore, digital bowling was far more convenient), and who would care if a couple of rowdy teenagers messed around in it?

With a heavy sigh, Officer Gormen pulled into what was left of the parking lot and stepped out of his car. It probably was for the best to check it out. Resigned to the task, he pulled out his flashlight and started for the gaping hole that use to be an entrance. He examined the building as he got closer and noticed a sign hung on the wall. It was barely visible from years of abuse and, if he squinted at it, Gormen could make out the name '_Lightning Lanes' _sprawled across it. He gingerly stepped over the rubble, flicking on his flashlight as he went. But as he stepped over a fallen wall, he realized he did not need the light – the alley's lights were on!

Gormen looked up in wonder. The ceiling lights shone brightly, but that was impossible - they were no longer connected to any electrical circuit. As he looked further ahead, Gormen spied, not a bunch of rowdy teenagers, but a full-grown man.

He looked extremely out of place standing alone by the lanes, sporting khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, but then again, Gormen thought, it would not have mattered what the man wore, he still would have looked out of place. He had air of importance and power about him that unnerved Gormen ahd he was tempted to simply back up and leave the man be, but he swallowed his misgivings and strode forward.

"Um, hello?" Gormen called out.

The man turned and examined the off-duty officer with deep sea-green eyes with a scrutiny that made Gormen extremely uncomfortable, before smiling in a weary way.

"Good evening," he replied, calmly, as if he often met police officers in abandoned bowling alleys.

Gormen stared baffled for a moment before he said, "Yeah, good evening….Is there any…particular reason you're hanging out here…in the old bowling alley?"

"There is," the man said, turning back to the broken and cracked lanes. "I came here once, with my son."

"Uh-huh," Gormen replied skeptically, looking the man over. He could not have been much older then Gormen himself, there was no way he was alive when the alley was still active, much less bring his boy around to play.

"What did you say your name was again sir?"

"I didn't," the man smiled over his shoulder at Gormen. He paused, "it's Poseidon."

"Right," Gormen said, scratching his head, "like the GreekGgod."

"Very much so, yes."

"And you…brought your son here once?"

"He brought me, actually. I…don't get out much. It was fun…" Poseidon drifted off, and Gormen could hear the sorrow laced in his voice.

"I'm sure it was…why don't you just take him bowling somewhere else?" Gormen suggested, shifted from foot to foot, anxious to wrap this up so he could head home. This tête-à-tête was getting stranger and stranger. Poseidon made him nervous and he just wanted to leave.

"He's dead."

"Oh…I'm so sorry," Gormen said, wincing. He looked again at Poseidon. The boy could not have been that old, probably around Gormen's oldest son's age.

"Yes," Poseidon said, turning around to face Gormen one more. He looked so exhausted and old in the light. "He was a great son. The best. I daresay I miss him," his eyes glazed over and Gormen knew Poseidon was no longer in the present. "I did not get to see him much…but he was a great man. I got to live with him once, here in your big city, and he brought me here one evening. It's the only place left we went. You people are so interested in progress; you tear down everything that built your past. His school, apartment, the cabin…all gone. This," he looked around the pitiful remains they stood in, "is all that's left on land to remind me of him."

"I still have his room," Poseidon continued, "in my palace. My wife allowed me to build him one and he visited a few times…twice actually. Nowhere near as often as he should have…but there are rules with those kinds of things. But none of this means anything to you does it Office Gormen?" He looked down at the office, who could not help but flinch at the intensity of his gaze. "You will not remember me next week will you? No, you will not."

Poseidon smiled then, "Which is why I don't mind talking to your kind, every now and again. I feel a little better and you're still none the wiser."

"My kind?" Gormen repeated, puzzled by this man, taking a small step backwards. He was not entirely sure Poseidon was all there. The man could not possibly be sane, perhaps overcome with grief over his son's death.

Poseidon ignored him. "Do you have sons Gormen?"

"Two, one is twelve and the other eight," Gormen replied automatically. He mentally winced at the freely given information. That was private; he tried to avoid mentioning his boys at work. It was dangerous.

Poseidon nodded at him, as if he understood the woes and worries of the man before him. "Treasure them," he told Gormen, "you see them everyday. Treasure that, you are lucky to have such an honor." He stared at Gormen in an almost mournful way. "Not all get such an honor."

"Alright…"

"I wont be a disturbance Office, you can leave me be. Just an old man and his memories." Poseidon said suddenly, turning sharply on his heel to face away from Gormen.

"Okay…" Gormen said, startled. He suddenly found himself walking out of the bowling alley and at his car. He climbed into his car and drove away without hesitation, and was home before he knew it. He blinked in surprise as he heard his kids happily calling to their mother that dad was home. He scratched his head, trying to recall how, or why, he had left in such a hurry. Did he really just leave that poor man there all alone?

His sons ran out to greet him and he opened his arms to them. With a sudden feeling of loss and desperation, he hugged his boys tighter then usual and held onto them as they walked up the drive.

"How was work Dad?" One of them asked.

"Fine. I ran into an odd man, though, on my way home. Poor guy, I think he's losing his marbles. Come one, let's go eat, I'm starved."


End file.
